Sequel - Thoughts of Despair
by D'MoNiQ
Summary: This is the edited sequel to A Devil's Smile. This time, it's Kogure's turn to do some musing. (ruko and such) Warning: Yaoi and Angst!


Title: Sequel to A Devil's Smile  
Part: 1/1  
Author:Siren M  
Genre: Angst, YAOI.  
Pairing: RuKo, MitKo and AkaKo the same.  
Rating: R  
Archive: fanfiction.net and yes to sd fic archive  
Email: Kitsunes@hotmail.com  
Warning: This is as DARK as it's prequel so be warned. Don't wanna get flamed like before.  
Author's Notes: As the title says, it's a sequel to A Devil's Smile. If you didn't read that fic, it'll be pretty hard to understand what is going on. /This/ is flashback and [this] are thoughts.

Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me. There, hope that's enough.  


Oh Hell, here goes.

Sequel to A Devil's Smile

It was morning. 

Kogure knew that without even opening his eyes. He could feel the warm sunlight on his back. He could hear the birds singing their songs of praise to the beautiful day ahead. He could actually imagine how welcoming the morning light could be. How flowers with morning dew glitter like jewels in the morning light. 

But somehow, all that glory didn't dissipate the coldness that clouded his heart. His lids opened involuntarily, revealing dark brown eyes that had held sorrow and hatred where it had once held warmth and love. If only he had something to wake up to...like he used to... 

He was alone in the bed. As he expected. 

He threw the soiled covers away, knowing that he had little time to prepare breakfast. He walked, regardless of his nudity, towards the bathroom adjoining to the bedroom. He didn't seem to notice that the water was cold or didn't seem to care either as he stood beneath the spray, scrubbing himself roughly till his skin became red and raw.

When he came out of the shower, he was shivering and almost numb. He stumbled out of the bathroom, opened the cupboard door, wanting to get dressed as quickly as possible. But he could only stare at the mirror as it reflect his own image. Exquisite brown eyes framed in an equally striking feature gazed silently back at him. He clutched at the cupboard door for support, still staring at his own reflection. 

He wondered when he had changed so much. Was it when Sashi-kun died?

/"Min-kun, aishiteru."/

/"Sashi-kun...I...I..."/

/"It's alright...I know..."/

He closed his eyes, willing himself not to think of the past. But the more he did so, the more the memories seem to permeate his mind. 

/..loving blue eyes...greeting him in the morning with a sweet kiss...warm hugs...flowers of all kinds...a gold wedding ring embedded with a blue sapphire...to remind him of his eyes...sweet whispers in the night...passion in the darkness...outings together...playing in the rain...snuggling together on a cold winter night...sharing a shower...just being together.../ 

*Sashi-kun* 

In the past, everything seem so simple and yet beautiful. Now everything in the world, though seemingly still beautiful, in a different way, was cold and bitter. Dull. Colourless. Lifeless. Like him. 

Opening his eyes, he stared at the beautiful young man with eyes that seemed too old for the youthful face. Clenching his fist, he stared hard at the reflection of the man that he hated. He stared as the reflection split into tiny fragments and blood began to drip onto the carpet.

Dragging his gaze away from the cracked image, he grabbed an article of clothing. Dressing quickly, eyes away from the broken mirror, he went into the bathroom to dress his wounds. He grabbed first aid kid from the cabinet and slammed the door close. 

The mirror placed on the cabinet, that had been replaced barely three days ago, reflected a face that bore indifference as he removed the bits of glass that had lodged in his hand with a pair of tweezers and applied antiseptic on to his bleeding hand. Not even wincing.

He didn't feel any pain. He hadn't felt pain for quite a long time. In fact, he hadn't felt anything at all for a long time. If it wasn't because of Kaede, he wouldn't even bother bandaging the wound. Wrapping the injury tightly, he unconsciously threw the mirror in front of him another glance. 

He glared at the image.

[I hate you.]

After cleaning the bedroom, he prepared a simple meal for his dark-haired lover when he returned from his morning jog. His lips automatically formed a small smile when his lover returned. He was smiling as if nothing had happened...

Kaede seemed to have noted the broken mirror in their bedroom but he said nothing, only looked searchingly at him for any signs of injury. Noting the bandaged hand, he seemed satisfied that he had no longer tried to slit his wrists when he first did whenever he was depressed. 

After breakfast, the blue eyed boy kissed him on the lips and left for his basketball practice. Again, Kogure was left alone in the apartment. He contemplated whether he should go out for a few hours but decided against it. He avoided all mirrors this time, cleaning the house diligently, keeping his mind blank.

That is, until his sight fell on his album book. 

Kiminobu reached for the book and opened it randomly, his movements jerky, his breathing laboured. His mind screamed at him to stop and close the book, to get out of the room, to do anything just to get away from there, from the memories. But he couldn't. 

He needed the memories too much, needed them to live...no, to continue doing what he did.

The brown haired boy sank to his knees, gazing at one of the picture, a picture of him sitting side by side with Mitsui, the taller boy was leaning over to rest his head on his shoulder. Both of them were smiling, their hands were behind their backs, hidden but he knew that they were holding hands.

He remembered when this picture was taken. It was about a month after Hisashi became his 'official' boyfriend, a year and three months before they got married. 

Kiminobu turned the page, noting absently that tears was falling on the page. Tears that he had thought long dried out. He smiled, a wistful smile through blurring vision as his eyes settled on a large picture of their wedding. It was as beautiful as he remembered. 

Friends and family, even those that did not, at first approve of their relationship, came. They came with blessing of a long future together. He knew though, that many had thought that they wouldn't last long. 

They were right. 

They barely lasted five years together. 

Hisashi Mitsui died on their third anniversary.

More tears fell. He didn't bother to wipe the tears as he flipped to another page. 

Their honeymoon. 

He stared at the smiling faces, wondering if there will be another time he would see his Sashi-kun again. Maybe after death? 

Another smile graced his lips. A different sort of smile. One that was clinical. After what he had done, he doubted he would see Hisashi again, even after death.

[Would you still love me, after all I've become? A whore, like me?]

[Would you forgive me for doing what I did? For what I am doing?]

[Would you even bear to look at me now?] 

He turned the page again. This time, it was a picture taken after Hisashi's death. He could tell easily, every picture taken after his death was gloomy and sad. Especially with him in it.

His friends were sad for him, everyone sympathized, but it was all a facade. 

The only people who really understood were those that had really been close with Hisashi. They were sad because they lost a good friend, one that could not be replaced, not because he, Kogure lost a husband. They were the only ones that understood his grief. 

He looked at the page he had turned to, noting that his tears had stopped. A picture of him and another person who had been close to Hisashi. Akagi. Takenori.

He was the only other person he could ever thought of fully giving himself to.

Hisashi would have understood. Akagi gave him a sense of protection, the same way Hisashi had given him. He provided love when he needed it. Comfort when he yearned for it. Warmth when he was cold. He was a good friend that had never ceased to be. Even after they became lovers. 

Akagi understood. He never said anything to imply that he wanted more. Yet, he kept on giving him, support, love, everything he needed to get up from the fall.

And then...

Kogure closed his eyes, holding the book close to his chest. 

Just when he started to recover, to recollect the pieces of a shattered dream, everything fell apart again. And this time, the pieces were too ruined, too crushed and tiny shards bit and tore at his already wounded heart. And now it ceased to beat.

He snapped the book shut. Sliding it back into the shelf, he left the room. 

Kaede would be back soon. It was time to cook.

Kogure closed his eyes, inhaling the sweet smell of the substance. Opening his eyes, he dropped a few drops into the soup, stirring gently. 

He capped the bottle, then placed it back at the back of the cupboard behind the spices where it looked like where it belonged. The bottle, with 'sesame oil' written neatly across it, sat there innocently. He would use it again tomorrow, like every other day.

He closed the cupboard and took out bowls and plates, readying the table. The clock in the dining room showed him that Kaede would be back any moment soon. He went into the kitchen to wait. 

Kogure continued stirring the soup as the door to the apartment slammed shut. He added more spice into the pot, ignoring the gaze he felt behind his back. For a brief moment.

Then he turned, greeting his lover with a smile that came automatically, almost robotic. His lover just stared at him with dark blue eyes, almost the same as his late husband's, only that they were expressionless, as always.

He didn't have to wonder what his lover saw. He knew how he looked to the younger man. It was how he saw himself in the mirror everyday. Sad, in every possible way, depressed even, and yet the aura that he unwittingly projected was somewhat enticing. Especially to people like his lover and his late ones.

He knew they viewed him as some one who needed protection. Someone frail, vulnerable, trusting and innocent. They were right. Or they used to... At least... he was no longer innocent. He ceased to be the moment the person he loved dearly was murdered.

Yes, he knew. 

He knew how, when, where, even why, and most importantly, he knew who. 

"Okaeri Nasai, Kae-chan." He smiled.

*Owari?*

Argghhh!! I can't believe this! I wanted a good ending but I managed to make it...arrghh again!!! Yearrghh!! *Tearing hair out* I'm sooo sorry Mitko fans. I can't believe this!!! I promise I'll write a real sappy MitKo next time. Or a nice RuKo that no one get killed or berserk in. ^^' I think I babbled too much. *In a small voice* C&C anyone? Just dun flame me please.


End file.
